You were taking younger years when he began to stop seeing the world, to life, to yours. Lost his sight and, many years later, he still seemed impossible not to see with only lift the eyelids. One day, at the moment leaned over to take a sample that was in the trunk of the car suffered the separation of the two retinas, the inevitable blindness was a matter of time. While what happened is not bent down to pick the color swatch (commercial work dedicated to the sale of paintings), which actually was looking in the trunk a magazine style erotic little hidden under the mat because of the endless curiosity of children who never stopped searching opening drawers, under beds, on top of the cabinets without knowing what they were though sometimes there was anything he was ashamed. I bent down and I became blind. That said everyone, including myself well, so the sample seemed more worthy to be blind to not the quasi-pornographic magazine.
was fascinated by beautiful women looked again why he liked those shameless girls in magazines as false as alluring poses, but to stop wanting them to see them stopped. He continued to attract the female essence and while fancied from time to time in the eternal night, he lost interest in sex since I stopped watching and started to forget.
This was blind, no punch or ball, or in a horrific accident with glass shards stuck in her eyes. It was as if running a curtain hiding the wonderful spectacle of life, of all the things that has since had to admit to the fingertips. Touch to recognize, but to recall the smell is much more accurate than sight or hearing, so they recreated recalling the scent of those roses that burst in large yellow flowers bursting walls and fences in their infancy and so far believed would be good to die on a day like any of those, in a morning light, perfumed, like those that give a damn about the multiplication table and walked dogs searched followed by not knowing what streets rebuscarían lonely and after their children under beds and the top of the cabinets. In May
never think of anything bad, why care so much death in the fifth month to keep it that way, so that the streak will continue until the end. Period that he met the woman for the first time, one that you chose him from almost all the boys in the neighborhood who could not help gave their hearts rendered in that eventful spring. Also, at that time, met with his first oath breaking the clown's mouth which he said was a whore girl who despised him. It broke and the following May, it also swore all married women marrying her, the same as in the same month, gave him the sweetest of kisses, that that would be remembered until the end of the day because the wet warmth of that kiss him with a sudden thrill of love going through one by one all the cells in your body, you can also your soul, I discovered the mother of his children. Born in May and won the first paycheck, was the first bike, and the first car, the first drunk with a friend smoked the first cigar, won a game of cards and in times of scarcity, he threw his last coins into the river by showing the future that was not afraid at all. Such was the strength of their self-confidence.
On other occasions, in May recalled sleeping under the mother's lap, which supported the head in his chest to hear the sweet lullaby which she sang her heart again and again recalled his father as kicking a ball yellow Strong, who seemed lost in the pristine blue sky. By then it all made sense, was great, endless, beautiful, all were immortal and perceived God in each of the atoms of each thing, because all were important. I felt in the golden light of evening slipping in bundles through the holes in the blinds cutting through the gloom of the school in a school notebook on the teacher's desk, in the carefree laughter of men tame the evening, in the pink-fuchsia favorite pen; the tear that slides down the lid of a coffin on the edge of the waves of endless summer and the litter swirling windy autumns, at the stations. Much later, in the end, it was only able to believe in God at times, for example, during a sleepless night of despair, because it was too long, how many years?, Who received no refreshing coolness of the dawn of July, not listening the singing of the birds after the rain and did not return to smell those roses smell like May but spring will sit around the roses and I swear that her perfume was so intense that came to be sick. Did not feel anything, and when you say nothing, is nothing, not even God. In the end everything ends limited, small, reasonable, senseless, like a deep dark ants nest full of drunks.
Now, overlooking the eleventh floor window of the wind on human plague, the noise of heavy traffic. The building is located as a lone giant in front of a grand avenue by which the principle, long ago, circulated an occasional car and he continued to look at twilight. May the sweet breeze ruffled her as gently as you would a loving hand while smoking there, so high, in an eleventh floor, leaning on the railing of the window and spitting from time to time. I looked at the bash zigzagging in the air and then did not sound the dreadful roar of thousands of tires rolling on asphalt or smelled the stench of scorched oil now. At that time listening to music from the radio simply indulging in smoking, blue, orange in the sky, spitting from time to time. He was young and saw the woman who chose from among all the sweet languish contemplated another day of May at his side. That was enough to declare themselves happy if it had been necessary.
Yes, I would have liked to die in May, on a bright morning, perfumed with the scent of roses but it was October and was in an eleventh floor in one-day decline muddy, cold, streaming through the window smelling oxide accompanied by the roar of traffic. He was alone, no one accompanied him to look the sunset and smoke at his side. I hear the barking of a dog, shortly after a distant whistle. He hummed a tune that once heard on the radio asked:
- Zigzaguearé as a spit? Surely not. Plummet, straight as a bundle or anything else without a soul. Return to innocence, zigzagging year in year to those wonderful days when the roses burst into yellow flowers overflowing the walls, perfuming the streets they roamed in those lost days of my childhood. I go back to May, this month I never did anything wrong, when everything was great, endless, beautiful sense.
